


a cup of sugar

by enbyofdionysus



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Awkward Crush, Dumb boys being dumb, M/M, Mutual Pining, Neighbors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 13:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17940362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbyofdionysus/pseuds/enbyofdionysus
Summary: Percy's house-sitting an apartment for his best friend Annabeth while she's away for her dad's wedding and there's a really hot guy across the hall. It pisses him off.__A goofy birthday fic for quensty!!





	a cup of sugar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [quensty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/quensty/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY, QUENSTY!! c: I hope today is super awesome and as amazing as you are!

There's a really hot guy across from Percy's apartment and it pisses him off.

To be fair, it isn't even Percy's apartment. So, really, he has no reason to be mad at the Universe for stationing his touch-starved bisexual body across the hall from a touch-saturated Dorito body that happens to be straight.

He's house-sitting the apartment for his best friend Annabeth while she's away for her dad's wedding. It's a one-bedroom in the Upper East Side that looks dangerously similar to apartment Percy grew up in and absolutely nothing like the one he lives in now.

Where Percy's studio is something like a brick-walled broom closet that always smells like ramen, Annabeth's apartment looks like something out of an Apartment Therapy house tour.

Not that Percy's jealous. He likes his ramen noodle closet. But it's still nice to put his feet up on Annabeth's brown leather couch while her gigantic white cat kneads his liver and pancreas with its 50-pound paws.

And it's  _also_ nice to get a bowl of cereal in the morning and leisurely watch as Annabeth's hot neighbor leaves the apartment across the hall for work in the morning.

Percy doesn't know where Hot Neighbor works, but wherever it is it requires him to look good. He leaves the apartment every day in a button down and slacks that hug his biceps and thighs like they were made for him. He's tall, blond, and looks like every frat boy Percy's secretly jerked off to after five beers.

Percy wonders if his name is Chad.

Percy prays his name isn't Chad.

Please-Not-Chad doesn't just look good in his work clothes, either. He looks good in leisurewear, too. Percy's favorite is the gray sweatpants. Hot Neighbor never wears underwear with them.

The sweatpants are a favorite of Hot Neighbor's girlfriend, too. Percy's seen her a few times while he's gone to check the mail for Annabeth. She's next-level hot with brown skin, brown eyes, and brown hair unevenly cut that shouldn't make her more attractive but somehow does.

Percy overheard her and Please-Not-Chad talking in the stairwell while he pretended to be interested in Annabeth's credit card bill and direct mail ads. Hot Neighbor said something about possibly getting new sweats, that the ones he wore were getting to be too thin. And then Hot Neighbor's Hot Girlfriend read Percy's mind and said, "How else would I see your dick?"

Percy isn't sure whether to be jealous or be best friends with her.

He opts for the former since "Hey, I overheard you in the hallway and I've been stalking your boyfriend through my friend's peephole" doesn't really start things off on the right foot.

And so Percy doesn't say anything. He just glances through the peephole when he hears someone on the stairs, feeds Minerva The Giant Feline once in the morning and once at night, eats his body weight in Peanut Butter Crunch cereal, and writes blog articles for clients halfway across the country for $15 per 500 words on Annabeth's big comfy couch.

He's in the middle of editing one of the said articles the day before Annabeth gets back, checking his spelling with Grammarly and Google spell check and every other spell checker that will help keep his dyslexia and ADHD a secret, when he hears a knock at the door.

Percy frowns. He waits a moment in silence hoping the person goes away, but the knock comes again and he's forced to get up. Minerva, who'd been sleeping against his leg, wakes up with a disgruntled 'meow.' Percy ignores her in lieu of looking through the peephole.

He nearly has a stroke.

It's Hot Neighbor.

"Fuck," Percy hisses. " _Fuck_." He checks the mirror Annabeth has in her entryway. He looks like he's homeless. His curls are in disarray and there's patchy stubble on his face. He tries to remember if he's brushed his teeth this morning, shoves his tongue back against one of his wisdom teeth to check. Nope. _Fuck_.

Hot Neighbor knocks again, but this time quieter like he's hesitant to even be at the door. Percy prays to God and Jesus and Poseidon and Aphrodite but not Apollo that he doesn't have to say a sentence with a lot of 'H's. Then he unlocks the deadbolt, unlocks the door, and opens it.

Hot Neighbor looks up at him.

Percy's prayer is answered; he loses his breath entirely.

Percy hadn't been able to tell through the peephole, but Hot Neighbor has blue eyes. Not the kind of blue eyes that creep him out watching Dora and Friends with his baby sister, but proper blue eyes. The kind that are written about in poetry. His hair is messy and he's wearing a t-shirt and jeans, but even that makes him look good.

Percy hates him.

Percy loves him.

Percy says, "Yeah?"

"Uh, hi," says Hot Neighbor. His eyes are dancing. Not because they're joyful, but because they're bouncing around Percy's face like he isn't sure where to look.

 _Please, God Jesus Poseidon Aphrodite Not Apollo, don't let me have a zit_ , Percy thinks. He can't remember seeing a zit in the mirror. He probably has a zit. It's probably on his nose, big and dark and _there_.

 _Behold me_ , the probably-zit-on-his-nose cries, _behold my horrible power!_

"I was wondering if I could borrow some sugar?" asks Hot Neighbor. "I'm sorry, I was expecting Annabeth--"

"Oh, no, yeah, sure, uh-- Do you want? Like, to come in? Do you wanna come in?"

"I don't want to intrude--" Hot Neighbor says like he's 80 and not a blue-eyed gorgeous Superman. Percy can see his nipples through his shirt. He wants them between his teeth.

"No, it's good, it's chill," Percy says, opening the door, "just, uh, watch the cat."

"Minerva," acknowledges Hot Neighbor because of course he knows the cat, he's Annabeth's neighbor. Oh god, did he know Annabeth? Has he fucked Annabeth? Has Annabeth fucked him? Hot Neighbor probably got pegged. Hot Neighbor's Girlfriend probably pegs him good. Percy wants to get pegged, too.

Jealousy grabs him in a wave of confusion.

"I'm Jason," says Hot Neighbor. It's the most frat boy name Percy has ever heard, but at least it's not Chad.  
  
"Percy," says Percy. He disappears into the kitchen and tries not to scream when he realizes he has no idea where the sugar is. It's probably in one of the upper cabinets. Everyone had a 'baking shit' cabinet, right? He kicks over a small stool because God granted him six feet of height, but he granted Annabeth with high ceilings.

He checks three cabinets before he realizes Jason McFratBoy is in the kitchen with him, watching him with his dumb blue eyes and dumb blond hair with his hands clasped at his waist like a schoolboy. He definitely gets pegged.

"You and Annabeth haven't been living together long?" Jason asks instead of shitting on Percy's detective skills. How many cabinets did Annabeth have?

"We don't live together," says Percy. "I'm just watching her apartment while she's at her dad's wedding."

"Oh," Jason says, and then, "you didn't go as her Plus One?"

"Why would I?" Percy asks. He opens the fifth cupboard. Still no sugar.

"Because you're her boyfriend?" Jason asks.

Percy lets go of the sixth cupboard in surprise. It slams. Both of them jump. "Uh," Percy says, looking down at him, "no?"

"No?"

"No," Percy says again. "I mean, like, we used to. But not--? No."

"Oh," says Jason.

"Yeah," says Percy. He opens the next cupboard. Where the fuck is the sugar? He tries to remember if Annabeth even cooks. She does. Does she bake? His brain goes to the weed Annabeth has hidden in her owl cookie jar. It's meant for her PTSD, but does she share it with Jason? Is 'sugar' a euphemism for weed? God, how old is he?

"Piper will be happy to hear that," Jason says.

Percy's so focused on trying to remember every slang word he's ever heard for weed in the 24 years he's been alive to hear him. He asks, "What?"

"I said Piper will be happy to hear that."

"Sorry, one more time."

"I said Piper will be happy to--"

"Piper?"

"My roommate."

Percy's mind short circuits. He stops looking for sugar. He looks down. Jason looks back up at him, all lovely eyes and long lashes. He has good cheekbones, Percy notices.

"I'm sorry," says Percy. He asks, "What?"

Jason obliges easily. In the same tone of voice, he says, "I said Piper will be happy to hear that."

"No, I mean, like, Piper-- She's-- The brown-haired girl."

"Yeah," says Jason, somehow not concerned that Percy seems to be having an aneurysm.

"She's your roommate."

"Yeah."

"Not your girlfriend?"

"No," says Jason. "I mean, we used to, but no."

"Oh," says Percy.

"Yeah," says Jason.

Percy closes the last cupboard on the top shelf. He gets down off the stool. "Um," he says. He licks his lips. He doesn't look at Jason. He opens the first lower cupboard. "Are you, uh. By any chance-- Do you-- Boys?"

He looks at Jason.

Jason is smiling, but he's pink. Just a little. Right on his gorgeous cheekbones. Percy's never been so happy to be half-black in his life.

"Yeah," says Jason. "Boys."

Percy nods. He checks the next cupboard.

"Do you--?" asks Jason. "Boys?"

Percy laughs. He wants to shy away, but he makes himself turn and lock eyes with Jason. He grins when he says, "Yeah."

"Cool."  
  
"Cool."

Finally, after what feels like a million cupboards, Percy finds a half-squashed sack of sugar in the last bottom cupboard closest to the wall. Percy grabs it, stands. "Would you," he starts. Stops. Starts again. "Would you want to go on a date sometime maybe?"

He hands Jason the sugar so he doesn't feel pressured to say yes just to get his ingredients. He would hate to tell his mom that he went on a pity date for the sake of some banana bread. His mom would think it was hilarious. She'd tell his dad. He'd never be able to live down another family reunion. Passover would be canceled.

"I'd love that," Jason says, again like he's 80. Percy imagines him in a tiny cottage in the woods with reading glasses laying on a floral comforter. He hates that, even there, Jason still looks hot.

Percy walks him to the door. Minerva only tries to trip him once.

Just as Percy opens the door to let him out, Jason says, "Can I be honest?"

Percy blinks at him by way of reply.

"I've seen you around the building," says Jason. He's red again. For a brief second, Percy thinks about all the other ways he can make him red. "I just thought that you and Annabeth-- Well, I thought you were straight. I'm glad you're not."

Percy smiles. He decides to keep his honesty, partly, to himself. At least until the second date. He says, "I'm glad you're not too."

Jason smiles. There's a small scar on his upper lip.

Percy wants to ask. Instead, he says, "Does this Saturday work for you?"

"Yeah," Jason says. He gestures at his apartment door. "My place? My roommate will be out of town."

An idea passes through Percy's head. "Annabeth's out of town right now."

Jason smiles, but this time there's something else there. His scar disappears between his teeth. "Saturday," he says.

Percy feels himself blush this time. He smiles back. "Saturday," he agrees.

Jason leaves with the sugar, but it's Percy who's left feeling sweet.


End file.
